


what seems to be the ossifer, problem? (part two, nsfw)

by Psuedorabbit



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aomine Daiki - Freeform, Fucking, GoM - Freeform, Kise Ryouta - Freeform, KnB - Freeform, Kuroko no Basket - Freeform, M/M, Model Kise, NSFW, Officer Aomine, Pure sex, Sequel, aokise - Freeform, drunk kise, generation of miracles - Freeform, kuroko no basuke - Freeform, raw infatuation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedorabbit/pseuds/Psuedorabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to http://archiveofourown.org/works/6890509</p>
            </blockquote>





	what seems to be the ossifer, problem? (part two, nsfw)

**Author's Note:**

> nsfw and really gay

Recap:

He isn’t afraid to reach out, to brush his fingertips along the hardened and angular features of Aomine, as well as the slight stubble on his face. He looked good, as always. Especially in only briefs. Aomine had not put on any clothes this morning, except his underwear.

”Good. You know you’re a real dipshit for drinking and driving right? You could have killed yourself, or some other poor bastard.” His words are more serious now, and he leans forward in his seat. Kise doesn’t lean back.

Kise can’t help but frown in shame, casting his gaze to the floor, a hand scratching at his arm. He was still in last nights clothes, and he felt icky. Maybe he’d ask to use the man’s shower.  
”I know, I know I don’t need you to tell me the law, officer.” He half teases, pretends to forget how he had called Aomine ossifer last night. ”You looked like shit last night,” Aomine begins, watched Kise’s face visibly drop.

“I know it wasn’t just the alcohol. What’s up?” He asks, as if the two hadn’t been on a communication hiatus for years.

This would be a long story.

_______

Aomine watches as Kise takes a moment to gather his thoughts, fingertips tracing from the man’s own tanned skin down to his arms, then to the surface of the table. Aomine is about to ask again, but Kise begins to speak.

“Chizuru.. She was, uh.. She wasn’t faithful,” the blonde confessed, fingers lightly scraping against the hard cherrywood tabletop. Aomine nods for him to continue, leans closer to the man.

“Her coworker, that Tobio guy, he courted her for a while now, and I went to surprise her at work to take her to lunch, and I couldn’t find her. I asked her boss, and he said that he didn’t know where she was, and to look in storage. She was in there with her skirt above her hips and Tobio between her legs.” Kise doesn’t continue after that, golden irises hardening as he gazed down at the table.

Aomine feels a mixture of emotions; some he knows well, the others, not so much. He knows he’s angry, knows he’s jealous and upset. Aomine reaches across the table to take one of Kise’s hands in his own, an attempt of a calming effort. It seems to work- the rigid stature of Kise slowly relaxing and growing less tense. Aomine feels heat rise to his ears. Although simple as it is, to be holding Kise’s hand like this feels oddly.. Intimate.

Kise seemed to notice this as well, a rose colored dust painting over the apples of his cheeks. It was cute- then again, the man was always cute, even when he was upset.

“If you uh.. Need anything, you know you can always come to me, right?” Aomine asks after a few ticks of the clock above the stove, navy eyes darting around to try and decipher the look in Kise’s eyes. The man wasn’t known for absolute people reading skills, but he can tell the basic human emotions. However, this was proving to be a challenge.

Kise nods a little, squeezes Aomine’s hand before reaching over to take the other. The blonde laced their fingers together, and despite the hell he’s gone through and the pounding hangover, he gives Aomine the brightest smile he could manage.

Damn, even when he’s completely wrecked, he still manages to give the sun a run for its money.

They simply stare at each other for a little while, Aomine’s thumbs idly rubbing soft circles into the backs of Kise’s hands, into taut tendons between fingers and the soft, sunkissed skin stretched around them.

Days turn into weeks, Chizuru long forgotten and moved on from. Kise was happier now, reunited with one of his past best friends. Old feelings stirred up for both men, neither of them exactly sure how to react, until one day, 23 days later- but who’s counting.

“I cannot believe you woke me up at four in the morning for this, Aominecchi!” Kise wailed, blonde tufts of hair sticking up in some areas, a baggy shirt exposing one of his shoulders and his sleep shorts wrinkled mid thigh. Aomine stood in the doorway of Kise’s apartment, clad in his uniform.

“What? I thought I was being considerate,” Aomine grunts, shoves the cup of coffee in Kise’s hands before inviting himself in Kise’s home.

Kise rolls his eyes, pretends to be huffy and mad as he tries to hide the widening grin behind his coffee cup. He tastes it, finding it just hot enough to drink and not scald himself. It’s not as sweet as he’d like it, but he certainly wasn’t going to be picky at this hour.

“So, _officer_ ,” Kise purrs teasingly, following Aomine into the living room. “Don’t tell me you came all the way out here to bring me a cup of coffee when you have work to attend to.”

“It’s a slow day at the office and I was patrolling in this area.”

“You’re an awful liar, Aominecchi!”

“Shut up.”

They banter like this for a while, until Kise is practically sitting on Aomine’s lap, coffee cups left on the table. Aomine has grown used to Kise sitting on him and leaning on him and touching him, but Kise was a little too close, and a little too warm.

Aomine’s facial expression remains indifferent.

“You know.. I always liked a man in uniform.” Kise’s fingertips skim over the black, shiny buttons of Aomine’s fitted shirt, tugs lightly. Aomine feels his muscles tense, a tightness in his throat. What should he do? Should he let Kise go on? Would Kise regret this later on?

“Ryouta, no. You aren’t ready for this.” It’s almost like Kise was expecting that response from Aomine. He only smiles and shakes his head, eyes trained on Aomine’s.

“Aominecchi, you don’t understand. This is something I’ve wanted since you showed me purpose. Since you taught me meaning for my life and how to set goals and aspirations for myself.” Well, this was shocking to say the least. Aomine feels his cheeks burn, tentative fingers kneading the heated skin under the fabric of the loose shirt Kise wore.

“Dipshit, why didn’t you say anything?” Aomine wants to be mad, to rip his hair out but for some reason, he finds himself chuckling.

Kise begins to laugh too, a truly melodic sound. He merely shrugs, lips tugged up into a tiny grin as he starts to undo the shirt buttons at a snail’s pace. Kise holds a look of admiration in his eyes as he thinks, tries to pull his words together.

“I didn’t want you to stop being my friend. I was happy just being by your side. I don’t think I could live with myself if I had ruined our relationship over something like that.” Kise says, runs his hands over the dips and curves of taut muscle and warm skin.

Aomine tugs off the rest of his shirt, tosses it to the floor and leans back into the couch. Kise’s interest moves towards the shiny, steel handcuffs attached to Aomine’s belt.

“I bet you catch a lot of filthy men and women with these, don’t you?” The question comes before Aomine can conjure an appropriate response to Kise’s confession, amusement washing over him.

“Yeah, and what about it? Could’a arrested you earlier this month, but your weak ass passed out on me.” Aomine squeezes Kise’s hips, grins at the darkening blush on the blonde’s cheeks.

“Maybe you should arrest me then, Officer Aominecchi,” Kise muses, shifts so that his arms are draped over Aomine’s shoulders, spine arched and ass pressed into the air. Their noses are about to touch, but every time Kise moves forward, Aomine inches back some, teasing.

Aomine has a permanent smirk now, his grip now crawling towards the curve of the man’s ass, shamelessly groping and squeezing at the flesh. Kise gave no indication that it was unwelcomed, and Aomine could have kissed him right there.

But that’s exactly what the blonde wants, so he wasn’t going to give it to him, no. No, Aomine was going to _punish_ Kise.

“Drinking and driving.. What punishments does that deserve?” Aomine inquires, pretends to think of the possibilities. He watches Kise bite his lip impatiently, the rosy cupid’s bow absolutely enticing. Aomine tugs up the shirt Kise wears, bunching it up near his collarbone to look over the well kept body in front of him. Even though their basketball days in high school have long since ended, Kise had admittedly stayed just as good looking, if not moreso.

Aomine tugs the shirt all the way off now, tosses it with his own. He leans forward in the sofa, picks Kise up by his hips and turns him, pulling the male’s hands behind his back.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Aomine begins. Kise’s upper chest and cheeks flood with heat.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” Kise is squirming now, Aomine pressing his frontside against the cool wall.

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” Kise feels heat beside his ear, tilts his head to the side with a small whimper. “Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?” Kise nods slowly, mumbles “please” under his breath. Aomine ignores him.

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” Kise agrees loudly, spine arched once more as he feels the cool steel of cuffs around his wrists, goosebumps rising on his skin as he hears the click of them lock together.

“Daiki, Daiki please,” Kise mumbles, his cheek and mouth pressed against the whitewashed wall, heat rising up his neck and causing his insides to squirm. He feels his body pressing harder against the wall, and it began to make his ribs a little sore. Aomine’s lips are by his ear again, and if Kise strains, he can hear the deep crackling of his voice between his words.

“That’s disrespectful, to call the authority by their first names. Should I give you _extra_ punishment?” He muses, teeth grazing against the shell of his ear. Kise is trembling now, hands beginning to shake behind his back in anxiousness.

“ _Sir_ ,” Kise dragged the word out, tries to grab something of Aomine’s with his wrist’s limited mobility. He manages to stroke against Aomine’s hip and the folds of his belt and pants.

The newer way of addressing Aomine seemed to amuse him, because he loosened his hold on Kise.

“Good boy,” he’s cooing at Kise now, praising him. It makes the model embarrassed in all the right ways.

“Thank you, _sir_.”

Aomine takes hold of Kise’s arm, manhandles him to where he knew Kise’s bedroom was and shut the door behind them.

Kise is dropping to his knees faster than Aomine can turn around and say a word, curiously looking down at Kise.

“I don’t know why you’re on your knees, you’re not going to get what you want anytime soon,” Aomine hums, laces his fingers in the back of Kise’s hair and no less than gently tugs him up to his feet. Aomine can’t ignore the look of disappointment in golden orbs, and he also can’t ignore how much he loves seeing that look.

“On the bed,” Aomine instructs, points to the mattress that wasn’t made. Kise obeys of course, struggles to hop onto the oversized mattress and ends up with red lines on his wrists from where the cuffs dug into him from the struggle.

Oh yes, they would both enjoy the marks the next morning.

Aomine makes work of taking off his belt, lays it on the nightstand. His gun was in its holster, along with other deadly items and such. It made Kise weak to think about what this man could do to him, since he was basically defenseless now.

Kise’s mind wanders as he watches Aomine undress himself the rest of the way. What if the barrel of the gun were to be pressed to his skin? Or rather, past his lips? Would it taste like fear, or would it taste like a bitter supremacy?

He opens his mouth to taunt the male, to push his buttons to see if perhaps he would use the gun, but his mouth is occupied at the moment with another.

The kiss was searing, scalding Kise’s lips and burning them to Aomine’s. He presses harder into the kiss, involuntary grunts working their way up his throat to push against Aomine’s lips.

Kise wants to touch Aomine, to reach out and knot his fingers into midnight tresses and just tug. But he can’t.

Kise’s thighs part to accommodate Aomine’s body, calves hooking around Aomine’s hips to draw him closer. The pauses between kisses give Kise enough time to glance down between their flushed bodies to evaluate Aomine’s cock in all of its glory; it stands tall and proud, eagerly waiting for any sort of attention.

Kise on the other hand, was soaking his pajama bottoms. He doesn’t wear underwear at night, and it’s becoming obvious now. There’s a formidable outline in his shorts now, twitching to life with every fleeting touch Aomine grants upon it with his hand as he alternates between holding Kise’s thight apart and pulling his hips closer to his own.

“Look at you,” the suddenness and gravelly tone of Aomine’s words cause Kise to jump, squirming even more under his gaze.

“All for you, sir.” Kise murmurs thoughtfully, head falling back against the pillows, bright locks splayed across the light gray fabrics.

Aomine’s fingertips run along the expanse of Kise’s throat, trace along the dips and sharp edges and thin skins between muscles. He pretends to not see the tiny bumps littering Kise’s skin as the model shivers.

“ _Officer_ , please,” Kise arches his hips up, offers himself.

Deciding that he could save orgasm denial and begging for a different time, Aomine caves. Besides, this is their first time together, so why not humor him?

Aomine laughs again, gently tugs down the sleep shorts in favor of finally having Kise fully on display for him.

“I bet no one can look this good in handcuffs, baby,” Aomine compliments, allows himself to drag his touches over the inside of Kise’s thighs, to relish in the warmth.

Kise flushes in embarrassment, suddenly bashful.

“Oh, _officer_ , such a way with words,” Kise cooes, teeth biting into the inside of his cheek as his hips rise off of the mattress and swing a little.

Aomine grunts now, ignores the redness growing on his cheeks.

It doesn’t take long for more gentle touches to turn into rougher ones, for the touches to turn into soft kisses, kisses turning into hard bites and scratches.

Both men are left panting, spent and sweaty and content. They were the best each other had.

**Author's Note:**

> my blog to request character x character ships is knb-garbage-writing.tumblr.com


End file.
